Dragon Daughter
by Sage Dans Les Lys
Summary: "The big picture doesn't just come from distance; it also comes from time"- Simon Sinek. And the time is now. It's time to see that the war between humans and dragons is bigger than just Berk. It's time for the Dragon Riders to come to light. Before everything is lost to war. AU HTTYD, slight spoilers for HTTYD 2.
1. Prolouge

**~Dragon Daughter~**

 **Prologue**

There was fire, burning bright in the night, alive with the sounds of human battle cries and dragon roars. Valka could only watch with horrified eyes at the scale of destruction occurring on Berk. She watched as dragons killed humans and humans killed dragons. Mindless killings, done because of ignorance and fear. If only they could all see that their differences were only skin deep.

A Monstrous Nightmare fell viciously down to the earth, violent vibrations shaking the land. A Viking came running up, eyes angry and axe raised, objective clear. Behead the enemy. The woman stopped the man, hands shaking but her will strong, grabbing onto his arm. "Stop! You'll only make it worse!" That instant of distraction gave the dragon the chance it needed to fly away. The fellow Viking ripped his arm out of her grasp, glaring at her, silently accusing and criticizing her- _how dare she help the_ _ **enemy**_ _, useless woman, how could the Chief marry this stupid traitor-_ before stomping away.

A man's scream from behind had her turning her head, but a house- _her home_ \- on top of the hill had her running, heart pounding in her ears. There, tearing through the roof like it was paper, was a great dragon. Valka could hear Hiccup screaming, wailing, and fear began to clog her blood vessels. She couldn't lose her child, her precious baby. Even if she was consumed by fire, devoured till nothing but a bloody mess remained, her Hiccup _would_ survive and hopefully _live_.

Flinging open the door, her blood burning her body from the inside, grabbing one of swords off the wall and raising it above her head, Valka managed only a few steps before she froze. The dragon was unlike anything she has seen. White scales, two sets of large wings, a face that reminded Valka of an owl. But that was not what had her speechless, unable to find the words that properly, _truly_ , described what she was seeing.

The dragon was hunched over her daughter's crib, rocking it gently. The babe was giggling, chubby hands reaching for the beast. The dragon was looking at the child curiously, gently. There was no fear. There was only understanding. In this instant, Valka knew she was right. She knew that peace was possible. That dragons and humans could live without violence, without hatred. The dragon turned to face her, drawing a gasp from her lips, and started to walk towards her, wings brushing against her now distressed daughter who was accidently scratched on the chin by one of the impossibly sharp talons.

Valka stumbled backwards until her back hit a post, still clutching the weapon like it was a lifeline. The dragon's eyes were wide and curious, looking at her like she was something new. Something different. The air hung still, a heavy curtain of realizations draping across the human woman. She was right. This dragon- this living, breathing creature- was not a monster. There was no fear in those unblinking eyes, only the reflection of her soul. Intelligence. Curiosity. Everything that supposedly made Vikings humans was inside of this dragon. Inside of those dragons.

An axe suddenly became embedded into the wall.

"Valka!"

Barging in like an unstoppable force of nature, Stoick yelled, "Run!" The dragon belched out fire, chasing after her husband, her love.

A burning beam broke right above Hiccup's cradle and she ran. Grabbing and pulling her daughter out of her cradle, out of its' path, Valka held the crying Hiccup close to her chest, watching. "No, don't!" She could only yell, freeing one of her hands to grab at the dragon. The angry, terrified creature whipped its' head around and she took a few steps back in fear of being killed. Before she could do anything, a mighty claw wrapped around her and Hiccup, mighty wings pushing the three of them up into the air.

"Valka!"

"Stoick!"

The human woman could only watch as her beloved husband stood helplessly while their home burned around him, while she and Hiccup were carried away in a herd of dragons. She could only watch as Berk became smaller and smaller, until it was only a point of red and orange light in the distant night. Valka closed her eyes, trying to stop the tears, and held Hiccup- her daughter, her only connection to Stoick, to Berk- tight against her chest. She doesn't know how long the dragon flew, only dimly registering clinging to Hiccup even more impossibly tight as the weather grew colder.

Suddenly, the dragons- who were silent the whole way- started to screeched and roar. Valka opened her eyes, and gasped at the sight before her. Standing like a creation of Ullr*, great pillars of ice rose from the sea and covered a small island. The dragons flew into an opening on the side of this structure that was much too high up for any intruder to reach. Light green eyes watched in silent wonder as they traveled through the ice, pillars pressed against the walls for support.

Valka was set down on her feet in a small stone cave. Holding a sleeping Hiccup, she watched the dragon stalk around her cautiously. She watched the dragon, holding her daughter closer when the dragon's eyes flickered up to the bundle. The dragon nodded its' head before dashing down a dark tunnel. With shaky steps, and with questionable objectives, Valka followed. Carefully juggling her daughter around in her arms, the woman climbed over jutting rocks, following what little she could see of the dragon's tail. She stumbled around in the dark, becoming startled when she could see pale light spilling into the tunnel.

She could only gasp at what she found.

Color and life clung to every corner of the cave, light highlighting everything in vibrant shades. And there were dragons. So many of every shape, every size, and every color. Flying, nesting, screeching- there was commotion and a sense of community that spilled from everything. Valka stepped further in, captivated by all of it. Then everything stopped. All eyes were on her, silently watching in curiosity. A nudge from behind had her stumbling forward; she looked behind her to find the dragon responsible for her being here. It stuck out its' chin as a silent 'go ahead'.

Gulping down her fear, she walked forward to the edge of the slab of land, her breath being stolen from her. There, sitting in a large pond like a god, was a dragon that was thought to only be a bedtime myth, the Bewilderbeast. Its' eyes slowly opened, revealing ice colored irises. It slowly rose and came closer to her and Hiccup, and she could only watch in awestruck silence. Valka held her breath as its' icy breath blew softly across her face, eyes staring right into the dragon's stunning eyes.

Hiccup, who woke up and was being remarkable quiet, reached out for the dragon, a wide toothless smile across her little chubby face, giggles on her lips. The dragon leaned in closer and gently blew frost onto the child, who screamed happily, clapping her hands. The Bewilderbeast's expression was soft as the child petted its' horns. Ice eyes looked up at Valka before frost breath lightly covered her cheeks and hair. The dragon pulled back and stared down at her, waiting for her next move.

She could leave. They weren't holding her hostage or planning on eating her. Surely one of them would take her back to Berk. But then what? Be forced to tell Stoick- the stupid, headstrong man that she loves- where this den was just so another battle in the war between humans and dragons can be fought? _We'll talk about this later_ were the last words he spoke to her before the attack, nerves and tempers running high during their argument about Vikings and dragons and coexistence. They were also the last words that Gobbler and Spitelout, her dear friend and her own big brother. She had always been different, a trait easily spotted and mocked. As much as they loved her, and she knew that they did, despite Spitelout's attitude, they could never completely understand her. Couldn't understand why she could not bring herself to kill a dragon. Couldn't understand her beliefs in peace with the beasts. They have been arguing constantly in recent months as the attacks grew closer and closer together. Truthfully, and this broke her heart violently, maybe they weren't meant to be…

What if she stayed here? It would hurt, being away from the only place she has ever known and the only man she has ever fallen in love and the two men that she loves. But here, she could- and would- do something to help the dragons, save them. Most importantly of all, though, Hiccup could learn that there's more than "us versus them". Hiccup could change the world knowing that it wasn't black and white. She could change the future for the better.

Valka looked at all the waiting faces around her, at the hope that was bleeding out of every scale of their body. The dragon that took her, that brought her to this den, walked up to her and sat in front of her, head tilted to the side.

She reached out to touch its' snout, fingers brushing against warm scales.

It rolled its' head under her palm.

She looked down at Hiccup, who was looking up with wide, innocent eyes.

"I guess this is our new home."

 _ ***Border***_

*Ullr- Norse God of Winter, son of a frost giant, rules Asgard in Odin's absence in winter

This is, obviously, going to be AU (cis-female Hiccup, cis-male Astrid, and Hiccup being with Valka) but it's going to be something _big_. And I mean big- cultural shocks, war, character appearances from the both movies and the tv shows, awkward courting, different types of relationships, disabilities, character development/ introspections, the whole sham bang. Wish me luck, and I hope you are all strapped in because it will be wild.


	2. Chapter 1

**Dragon Daughter**

 **Chapter 1**

 _20 years later_

The sky was clear and blue, birds chirping while in flight. The village of Berk was busy, hustling and bustling, going about its' normal routine. _'Well, almost normal,'_ thought Stoick as he walked down dirt streets, waving a brief hello to the villagers. _'There haven't been any sights of dragons.'_

Though, to be fair, everyone has been saying that for the past five years.

While easy to believe that they just up and left, declaring an unofficial end to the fighting, every villager was on their toes, waiting for an unexpected attack. After all, dragons are just mindless beasts that only know about death and destruction. "Stoick!"

The large man turned his head to find Gobber swinging his way up to his side. The two men bumped forearms together in greeting before continuing to the dining hall. "Lovely day, ain't it?" Stoick hummed in response. "So what's on the schedule for the day?"

Running through his brain, Stoick started to list off, "Repair some buildings, count the livestock, prepare for the upcoming trade day, speak to Va-" The now fifty year old man snapped his mouth shut and stomped almost violently ahead, heart clutching painfully inside of his chest.

Even now, twenty years later, he still expected to come home and find his Valka and Hiccup there, alive and well and happy.

Gobber, wobbling his way back to him, didn't bring up his slip up. The older man loved Valka like a little sister, and was excited to become Hiccup's godfather. Stoick knew for a fact, despite how hard Gobber tried to hide it, that the smith still had the hand carven toys that he made for Hiccup in a box in a cabinet in the forger. Hel, Stoick knew that Spitelout, hiding behind characteristic bravo and arrogance, was still mourning the loss of his sister and niece, obvious in the way he would sometimes turn his head and open his mouth to call out to Valka to only realize that she wasn't alive anymore. Obvious in the way he sometimes looked at Hiccup's crib with anger and grief. Most painfully obvious in the way that he would sit with Stoick on the anniversary of their deaths and drink and look out to the sea, never speaking a single word, broken eyes saying everything that wanted to be screamed out into the world.

A group of five young adults suddenly caught Stoick's eyes, pulling him out of those dark thoughts that more than once nearly dragged him to the bottom of a jug of beer or put his axe roughly through a tree. "Oi!," he called out, watching in amusement as four out of the five scrambled to make themselves presentable while the last just turned to look at him. They were the most well-known group on Berk, three of them for their antics, one for his knowledge, and the last for his skills (and looks).

Snotlout Jorgenson, the son of Spitelout, was very similar to his father in both looks and personality. Arrogant, narcissistic, egotistic- a product of his father, who is a product of his father. Valka once explained that all men in her family were that way because of a harsh, distant upbringing that demanded only winners and the best. But Snoutlout, despite his flaws, respected higher authority and was loyal, like a true Viking, to Berk and its' people.

Now there was Ruffnut and Tuffnut Thortson, the Terror Twins of Berk. Always together, whether in the village or in trouble, the two of them were a source of constant reports and lectures. But even with the sheer amount of chaos and headaches the two of them caused (which often brought Snoutlout into the mess), no one could deny that they were anything but loyal to the island.

Fishlegs Ingerman was quite an interesting young Viking. Despite his large size, he preferred to use his brain. Everyone in the village knew for a fact that he has memorized the Dragon Manual from front to back. Stoick had no doubt that when the dragons came back (this he was sure of) he would be a valuable asset to the village's protection.

Last but not least, Ashton Hofferson. The shining son of the Hofferson family was quite a character. A looming giant, built like a serious, straight laced stone wall, was handsome. And skilled. Five years ago, he was the top of the Dragon Training class, destined to kill the Monstrous Nightmare and helped slaughter the dragon queen. Even now, with the dragons missing, Ashton was a vital warrior to Berk.

"Chief Stoick!"

They all nodded their heads in respect before straightening their backs. "Good morning, Chief." He nodded his head at them before running a hand through his beard.

"Good morning. What are everyone's plans for today?"

The small group began heading to the mess hall, ideal chatter filling the silence that would have pulled Stoick back into pit of darkness nested in the back of his brain like a bad rash that wouldn't go away. The rash that keeps him firmly attached to the past, to dragons, to Valka and Hiccup. And, like the old fool that Valka always claimed he was, he still went into the forest as the sun started to set and villagers started to get ready for bed. Memories flooded his sight under the dense cover of trees. Chasing fairies when he and Valka were only children, the girl weaving stories like they were flower crowns she would give him, ignoring his empty protests. Valka running over fallen trunks, her feet bare and her hair free and her armor gone, wild in nature as she was in the village, laughing madly, calling out for him to try and catch her, knowing he'll fail. Him whispering stories, not as great as Valka's, never as great as her's, into her swollen belly, hoping that their daughter would listen as Valka laughed, her drawing pencil and paper resting on his head, back up against a tree. Hiccup trying to grab onto a butterfly, a firefly, a bird, her chubby hands reaching, her toothless smile laughing happily.

"Chief!"

Stoick turned around sharply to find Ashton behind him, axe over his shoulder. "What are you doing here, Ashton?" The older Viking was surprised to find the young adult here- he was sure Eerika, his mother, would be hounding him about getting married, showing him a long list of young maidens that would love to be his wife. Stoick watched in unconcealed amusement as Ashton ran his hand down his face, exasperation written clearly on his face.

"Escaping my mother."

The older man laughed and slapped Ashton's shoulder, secretly glad that the younger was almost the same height of him. The closest person to ever come close to his 7'2* height was Valka, and she was only 6'3*. Ashton was 7 feet flat, and Stoick deeply appreciated the fact that he didn't have to bend his neck at all to speak with the blonde. "She's only trying to find you a bride, not kill ya."

"Feels like it some days," the warrior snorted.

"I heard Ruffnut was a choice."

"Please don't remind me of that," he groaned. "She and I have a purely platonic relationship."

"What about the other girls?"

Ashton ran his hand down his nose and chin, trying to gather his thoughts in order. "I know they only want me because of my looks and my family name." Perceptive lad, he is. "Besides they don't make me feel anything. I can't bring myself to physical want them, and there's nothing else that attracts me to them. They don't excite me, or challenge me. There's just nothing." Stoick hummed in agreement, knowing that sentiment all too well.

"I remember that feeling," Stoick began, knowing that Ashton was listening, "when I was your age. The women only wanted me because I was going to be the next chief and I had a long list of battle achievements. They didn't impress me or make me feel anything. The only woman who ever created a fire inside of me was Valka." Stoick didn't have to look to know that Ashton was staring at him, wide eyed. It was rare for him to talk about Valka, and everyone knew that. They made it a point to never speak her or Hiccup's name where he could hear it. But, even though his heart felt like it was breaking whatever pieces were left of the damn thing, Stoick knew that Ashton should hear this. Hel, Stoick needed to talk about one of the loves of his life.

"She calmed me when I was anger. Comforted me when I was distressed. Challenged me when I was often being a near sighted, pig headed fool. She made me want to be a better man, a man worthy of being able to call himself her husband. Odin knows what she saw in me that made her love me, but she did. Even when I knew that she wanted to hit me upside the head with a frying pan." The chief had to laugh softly at those moments that seemed to have occurred more when she was pregnant.

"You loved her very much." It wasn't a question, merely a statement of truth.

"I did and, like the stubborn fool that she often rightfully claimed I was, I still do. With every drop of blood and fiber in my body." Stoick grasped Ashton's shoulder, the duo now stopped and just standing, facing each other. "Find a woman like that. Find someone who will make you want to be better than what you currently are, but will still love you even when they want to beat you upside the head for doing something stupid."

Ashton nodded.

A distant sound, low and quiet and almost inaudible and _beastly_ , caught Stoick's ear. Pressing a finger to his lips and nodding his head forward, Ashton nodding in understanding, he stalked forward, staying low and quiet. A familiar hum started to buzz in his blood, striking his nerves with lightning. He knew this feeling, knew what this fire inside of him meant.

A dragon was here.

Keeping close to rock walls, Stoick, Ashton across from him, inched closer to the sound, coming to a halt behind a large boulder that looked out to a large cove, the noises almost silenced by the crashing of the waterfall into the large pond. There stood a sight that had the Viking chief could only blink at. Sitting on a large rock was a stick of a figure- probably no taller than 5'6 at most- covered in light armor, face hidden by a helmet, talking with a small-ish, black dragon. There was no fear or hatred. They sat there like friends, the figure running their hands down the dragon's black scales in affection, the beast's head on their lap.

For a spilt moment, he could hear Valka's tales of peace between the two species.

Then he remembered her screams and Hiccup's cries as a dragon carted them off, his home burning around him.

He saw red.

Unleashing a battle cry, Stoick charged towards the pair, Ashton right behind him. The figure jumped and looked toward them, clearly startled despite their hidden face. The dragon jumped in front of them, mouth pulled into a harsh snarl, fangs bared, eyes hard and narrow. The figure whistled and the dragon jumped back, diving between their legs so the human could sit on its' back, and flew into the air. The pair, once a safe distance up, turned to look at Stoick and Ashton, who were glaring at them. Stoick's eyes narrowed as he spotted the red tailfin on the dragon's tail, the saddle on its' back. That only meant one thing.

"Why are you helping this beast?!," he screamed at the figure.

A woman's voice answered, "Because he's my friend! Got a problem with that?"

"That's a dragon!"

"Nice observation skills!"

Stoick growled. The human certainly had a mouth on them.

"Dragons are monster! They kill humans!"

"And humans kill dragons, but they aren't monsters? No wonder Drago is coming to Berk!"

And with that, and a scoff from the wretched beast, they were gone. Stoick's blood froze at the sound of Drago's name. That mad man was coming here. Odin help them all. "Chief?" The older Viking turned to look at the blonde, concern in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Gather the village. This is an emergency."

Looks like the calm is over and the storm is coming.

 **~*~*~*~*Border*~*~*~*~**

*I'm using the heights stated on .com. Obviously, I'm changing Astrid/Ashton's and Hiccup's heights, but everyone else's I'm basing off the information on the site.


	3. Chapter 2

**Dragon Daughter**

 **Chapter 2**

Gobber has seen many things in his roughly fifty years of life. He has seen good Vikings- some who were only children- die. Seen his arm and leg devoured by a dragon. Seen Berk repeatedly burned down, fire scorching the earth. Seen his best friend painfully mourn over his lost wife and child, throwing furniture against walls or drowning his sorrows in ale, lost and grief and rage swirling together in his eyes until Death looked more alive than he was.

So when Stoick came marching through the village, Ashton right behind him, determination and authority radiating from him like the sun, yelling to get to the mess hall for a village meeting, Gobber knew that something was seriously wrong. He hasn't seen that level of Stoick's legendary Hel-bent attitude since Valka and Hiccup died and the dragons disappeared without a trace.

Pushing his way through the muttering, packed crowd to stand next to his best friend (or, to be more correct, his only best friend left), Gobber waited for Stoick to speak, hair standing on their ends. All eyes became focused on Berk's chief, on _their link for survival_ , and the larger than life man scanned the crowd before he spoke, words heavy and drenched in truth, leaving no room for doubt to enter their heads.

"In the woods tonight, I and Ashton saw a dragon." Gobber watched the other man even more intensely, waiting to hear about how he slaughtered the beast. Knowing Ash, he would have tried to help. But knowing Stoick even more, better, (staying up far too many nights, watching as the carefully crafted mask of a put together man shattered to reveal a broken man who blamed himself for not being there sooner, for _fighting with Valka far too many times till their marriage was stained and thin like ice, even after Hiccup's birth, despite the love that they knew was there,_ did that), the man, blinded with vengeance, would have slay the monster by himself. "A human was with the beast. They rode the monster."

Startled gasps and murmurs filled the idea, Gobber's own mouth hanging up, unable to fully understand. A human and a dragon? It wasn't possible. The two were as different as Hel's realm and Valhalla. _"We aren't so different, you know?"_ Valka's voice- a sound whose volume always differed but always filled with purpose- entered his head, as it has done so many times in the past. Perhaps if she lived, things would be different. Perhaps she would have found that _connection_ that she believed in but the rest of Berk laughed and mocked at, her determination and victory shining in those expressive eyes of hers.

But she didn't.

Wasn't it ironic that the woman who believed so _desperately_ in peace would die by the beast that she sought to understand?

Gobber shook his head, temporarily riding himself of those thoughts, and focused back on Stoick, who lifted his hands to silence that mutters that weaved through the crowd. "The stranger left us a warning. Drago Bloody Fist is coming." There were cries of shock and fear, and Gobber could feel his hair stand like spears in the stand.

"That mad man is coming?"

"I do not know if the information is true," continued Stoick, his eyes blazing with the fire that has sworn to keep Berk safe, "but we must be prepared for anything."

From the silent crowd rose a roar of agreement, of _togetherness_ , that shook the walls, the _Earth_. And this is what made Berk strong, made Berk the name that was spoke in legends and hushed whispers. With the call of hundreds still ringing harshly in air like the screams of ghosts, everyone went charging out of the building, rushing to prepare for the possible invasion. Preparing for the unknown future.

Once they were alone, still standing on the platform, Gobber placed a hand on Stoick's shoulder, squeezing it. "Didne figure we woods be dealin' wi' thes when Ah woke up thes morn." The other man nodded, eyes still hard, mind still elsewhere. Or on someone else.

"I never thought that man would return."

"Neither did Ah."

A thick hand ran down Stoick's face, a heavy sigh leaving his throat. And just like that, Gobber watched his best friend (at least one of them- the other was _dead_ ) age, Time and scars and responsibilities and _regret_ wearing down his shoulders like iron chains, Ghosts appearing his eyes. This was what is meant to grow old, not to age. This was what it meant to be the dead walking.

"We will gie ben thes. Together."

Stoick smiled (it didn't reach his eyes- then again, it hasn't in twenty years), clasping their hands together, squeezing slightly in a silent 'thank you'. "I know. That's how Berk has, is, and will always be. Unified." Gobber grinned, feeling the familiar hum of adrenal, the calling of battle, start to race through his blood like a siren's call. They'll get through this.

(He hoped.)

 **Took me forever to write this- Gobber's accent was the hardest part. I just put it through a translator, so let me know if there are any errors. It's shorter than I wanted, but I didn't want to BS it.**


End file.
